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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25721962">Left Wanting</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeloraInkwood/pseuds/DeloraInkwood'>DeloraInkwood</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Harry Potter - Fandom</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Character Death, F/M, Foot Fetish</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 11:08:27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,896</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25721962</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeloraInkwood/pseuds/DeloraInkwood</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>What if, in spite of his unrequited love for Lily, Snape did have a relationship of sorts?  Love, even, maybe.  This story begins during their 6th year and jumps around a bit - each chapter is really just a little snippet of their choices, just a little ‘what if?’</p><p>Warning: character death, smut, memories.  Death covered up as suicide.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Severus Snape/Original Female Character(s)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Beginning at the Ending</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is intentionally out of order - and in the order I wrote them.  If it is confusing this way, I’d like to know, I couldn’t decide what order to put them in.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The owl taps at the window startle Snape away from the parchment he is writing on.  He opens the window and takes the scroll from the shaggy looking thing, slamming the window before it can come inside.<br/>
‘S - The Hogs Head, post haste.’<br/>
At the last two words, Snape groans and looks over at the seventh year who is sitting in his office, helping him organize his research.<br/>
“Marcus, please go to Professor Flitwick and let him know I need him to fill in for rounds tonight, then you may go.”  Snape gathered his cloak for the walk to Hogsmeade. </p><p>“Severus, late as usual.” A handsome brunette witch speaks as soon as he is within earshot, not turning her head to look at him.<br/>
“Yes, well, arrangements have to be made.”<br/>
“Ah, did you cancel patrols because of me? How lovely - I will not need to make an elaborate show of begging you to stay.”<br/>
“Portia...”<br/>
“I know, I know - what will your beloved headmaster think?  Sit, Severus.”  Half her mouth pulls up as he comes into view.  “I’d love to invite you straight upstairs.  We both know the first will be expedient.” She pauses and lifts her glass to her lips. “but the rest will be exquisite.  Proprietary says we should have a drink first.”<br/>
Snape sits in the chair across from her.  She slides her hand across the table and when she pulls it back, there is a room number scrawled across the skin on the back of his hand.  She leans back against her chair and gestures to the bartender.<br/>
“Portia...”<br/>
“That’s the second time you’ve said my name and you’ve yet to say anything else.”  She folds her arms across her chest and cocks one thin eyebrow.<br/>
“I should get back to the castle soon.”<br/>
“Perhaps, but you will stay.”  She leans forward again, smirking, the top button of her robes revealing the pale globes of her breast, and sends into his brain.  “Part of you wants to stay.”  When she leans back, she continues out loud, “I have been nothing but kind to you, it would behoove you to be kind to me as well.”  Her tongue darts out over her lips.<br/>
Snape resists the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose - Portia is a complication neither he nor Dumbledore expected.  He is glad he left so many important thoughts behind at the castle.  “I am not leaving.”  The bartender sits two wine glasses and a bottle on the table between them.  “Two firewhiskies as well, please.”  He maintains eye contact with her.<br/>
“I knew you would see it my way, Severus.  Tell me, how are things at the castle?  Anxious? Upsetting? Depressed?”  With each word, her smirk grows.<br/>
Snape feels a familiar sensation in his stomach - he is conflicted about so many things, and she is no different. “I do not wish to discuss the castle with you, Portia.”<br/>
“Lucky for you, then, that I am here of my own accord.”  She pours herself a glass of the wine and sips it slowly.  “Not terrible.  Very well, Severus.  What would you like to discuss with me?  Shall we negotiate the terms of our evening?  I intend to begin with you deep in my...”<br/>
His looks cuts her off and he tosses back the fire whiskey the bartender has set in front of them.  “I do not wish to discuss that in public, either, Portia.”<br/>
“Well, then, perhaps we should retire upstairs.  I can only assume you do not wish to be seen, so this bottle and I will go upstairs, alone.”  Again, he feels her thoughts invade his mind.  ‘And then you can leave, apperate into my room and I’ll show you all the places I plan on making you cum.”  </p><p>Snape coughs lightly and only watches as she turns and flounces away, up the stairs.  He leaves the table - tossing a few coins upon it - and for a few moments he is certain he will simply stroll back to the castle and tuck himself into bed after a nice cup of tea.  He is absolutely certain that is the better choice.  But he thinks about the way her hair swings at the small of her back, the way her long fingers grasp his forearms, the way she sends little trendils of thought into his brain but never tries to take anything.  The way she says his name like a warning when she’s close.  He barely registers that he is apperating into her room.</p><p>“You always take such a long time, Severus.”  She sits in the only chair in the room, holding a lit cigarette between her fingers, her robe open with only underwear beneath it.<br/>
“I do not want to be here.”  His voice a hiss from the door way.<br/>
“I am aware.  Sometimes, though, it is your refusal to openly desire me that makes your desire so delicious.”  She puts the cigarette to her lips and inhales slowly, keeping his eyes.  “If you are so loathe to be here, show me.”<br/>
He shakes his head.  “You are very irksome, Portia.”<br/>
She smiles around her exhale and the cigarette vanishes.  “Not for one second did I believe that it would be that easy to have you disrobed.  It could be - one thought - but I do not want to take advantage.”  When he does not move or answer, her lips pinch inward.  “Severus, I want you to be happy. I can accomplish that task.  All of the things I have suffered for you... Consider that, please.”<br/>
“Portia.”<br/>
“Consider that and what it means, Severus.  I am no Lily, I know this - but you cannot put your prick in gravedust.”  Her eyebrows have curved in, her voice growing shrill instead of its usual smooth, even velvet. She stands with her fists on her hips. “Consider how some of your peers treat their companions - if you do not care for me that is one thing, Severus, but I can see your lies.”<br/>
Snape steps forward and brushes his thumb down her jawline.   “It is more complicated than you choose to believe.”<br/>
“It is not more complicated than this, Severus.”  She slides her hand through the buttons on his robes, over the front of the bulge growing at the crotch of his pants.  “Stop talking, anyway.  Give me a lovely evening and I will tell the Dark Lord.”  She stands and purrs into his ear, “that you were perfectly satisfied.  Confess a secret and perhaps I will be rewarded for coming to visit.”<br/>
“I have no secrets.”<br/>
“I can feel at least one.”<br/>
As she squeezes him, he lets out a low growl.  He takes hold of both of her forearms and pushes her back towards the bed, knocking her robe from her shoulders and vanishing his own. He does not bother to do more than drop his pants and slip her underwear to the side before he is inside her, pressed against the edge of the bed, her lips at his neck, his ear, the hitch in her breathe encouraging.  He digs his fingers into her ample hips and does not need the encouragement.<br/>
His climax comes, as she predicted, expediently.  Afterwards he lets her drop onto the mattress and pulls his boxers back up over himself before joining her there.<br/>
She is pretending to examine her manicure but is, also, surveying him out of the corner of her eye.  “If you indulged more frequently...”<br/>
“There is nothing to indulge.”  He is no less growl-y now.<br/>
“Now, now Severus.  Even the Dark Lord has needs.  It is unnecessary to pretend you do not.”<br/>
“The Dark Lord.”  Severus narrows his eyes at her.  Something like jealousy gnaws at his gut.<br/>
“Does not utilize foot soldiers as consorts, Severus.”<br/>
“Portia, are you here of your own accord?”<br/>
“Absolutely.”<br/>
He sends out his own threads of thought and, though Portia looks down, he does not feel her locking anything away from him.  And she must not, because he sees both what he wants to see and what he does not.  Portia on the ground in front of the Dark Lord, holding her face.  “I have told you to cease this chase.   You have other instructions.”<br/>
Portia, her face flushed, “I am going to Hogsmeade, I have a suspicion that one of our witches may have been compromised.”<br/>
The Dark Lord, eyes narrowed, very close to her, “You will leave your professor out of this?”  It is both question and command.<br/>
“Yes, absolutely.”<br/>
Portia, waiting for him downstairs.<br/>
Portia, at 17, in the dormitory common room, smiling at him every time he enters.<br/>
Portia, at 23, tear streaked face as she yells at him to ‘be a man.’<br/>
Portia, not telling him, hiding out of sight for a decade.<br/>
Portia, across a circle of Death Eaters, grinning like she’s won first prize when he’s there.<br/>
Portia, assuring him, nothing to worry about now, it can’t happen again.<br/>
Portia, naked above him, breasts bouncing, hair swinging, radiant.<br/>
Snape is on her again, but this time he is searching her mind for a very specific memory as he kisses her. </p><p>And there it is: Portia waits for him in the stairwell after potions, her books clasped in front of her, rocking back and forth toe to heel. “Snape.”  Her voice is just as smooth, but higher.<br/>
“Lenloch.”  He nods at her.  She steps to his side and keeps up.<br/>
“I have been thinking.”<br/>
“You do entirely too much of that.”<br/>
When they reach the troll tapestry, she locks her hand onto his elbow and drags him, thrice, in front of a seemingly blank wall.  When the door appears, she pulls him through it, but as soon as they are inside she turns on him.  “You have made me wait too long, Severus.”<br/>
“You are waiting for the wrong wizard then, Willis finds you remarkable.”  Snape’s eyes are on the floor.<br/>
“I find Willis quite ordinary.  You, however, are extraordinary.  And I am remarkable - consider the possibilities.”  She is already removing her robes and the clothes underneath it.  “Come here, Severus.”<br/>
He obeys, if only because he is curious about what it will feel like.  When he is beneath her, letting her take charge of him, he is reasonably certain this is dangerous magic.</p><p>“Severus.”  She hisses his name and digs her sharp nails into the flesh of his bicep, their foreheads together, Snape pressing hard, deep and fast into her.  He opens his eyes and smirks down at her.<br/>
“Remember.”<br/>
“Yes.”  She begins to feather flutter around him, her hips squirming beneath him, pushing back.  “Severus.”  It is less warning this time, more whine.  He slides his arm beneath her back, mutters enough charms to make it look easy and pulls them over so she’s on top of him.  He pushes her up and strokes his thumb against her clit while she grinds her hips until she shudders around him over and over again, drawing him right down with her.</p><p>“Severus.”  It is a hiss, in his ear, as she shakes him awake aggressively.  “Get up.  Now.”<br/>
“Not yet, I’ll stay.”  He pulls her close.  His forearm is burning.<br/>
“You have to go back to the castle, right now.”  She is pushing him away, her breath fast.  “He’s coming.  Severus, go.”<br/>
Snape barely has time to put his clothes on before there is the unmistakable pop of someone apperating into the room.  Snape immediately averts his eyes as the Dark Lord turns around, looking for Portia.<br/>
“My dear...” His eyes land on Snape instead, on Portia in the bed, clutching the blankets to her chest.  “You lied to me.”  His brow is furrowed as he raises his wand and shakes his head. “You lied to me.”<br/>
She is dead before she can speak again.<br/>
Snape draws himself up and looks at his Dark Lord, who is still shaking his head.  “Snape, I trust you can clean up this mess - I do apologize that she bothered you.”  Portia’s forearm is draped forward on the bed, reaching for him, her mark deep red.  “Make it look... intentional.”  He grins in a way that is most unbecoming.  “Do you know, Severus, I think she may have been in love with you.”  He spits the word and he is gone just as quickly as he appeared.<br/>
Snape is careful as he clears the room, arranges her body, not to look at her face.  But he cant tear his eyes away from her arm.  When he is finished, he drags his wand along the pale flesh and presses his lips there, too, though she is at last cold and unyielding to his touch.  He wonders briefly if he will know, if this will be his undoing.</p><p>In the morning, the inn keeper finds a witch, all alone with an empty bottle of wine and so many potion bottles next to her he cannot count them.  But she is tucked so sweetly under the covers, her clothing arranged just so, her left forearm laying out beside her body, milk white.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Simpler Times</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>A simpler time - can stand alone.  Snape has a food fetish.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Severus Snape has a foot fetish.  Normally, Portia does not allow such ministrations - but Severus is a sot and she has developed certain affections for him and the way he mewls and mopes and does what she tells him to. She considers it practice for the other things she is going to demand he do with his mouth later.  (And he will do them, without question, in the hopes that she will return the favor.)</p><p>He brings her concoctions: elixirs and serums meant for her face and nails which she sometimes lets him watch her rub into her skin.  That is how she learns of his affliction: he brings her a cream meant for her feet and asks, eyes to the floor, “Can I help you with it?”  His intensity is overwhelming, and she must admit, the things he brews and often delightful.  She would like to keep him.</p><p>Portia is aware, however, that it is not her with which he is besotted.  He may cling to her, may whisper sweet nothings in her ear when he is upon her, but she is not the true object of his desires.  Once, in the throes of (his) passion, she shifted her face so that when he opened his eyes, he met the eyes of Lily.  She was very impressed with how quickly he came, and how ashamed he was afterwards.</p><p>But she does not mind.  There are any number of men who are besotted with her, courting her in the hallways and many of them she leads along, tokens of affection and little gifts of want.  But it is Severus who sends her stomach into a frenzy, his awkward delight at being pursued, his hesitant willingness, his reverent glances at her face when she looks away and perhaps, at least slightly, the way he comes back for more even after she is cruel.  </p><p>She is often cruel.</p><p>And so, when they are alone, she lays her feet across his thighs and lets him remove the little kitten heels she wears around the castle, his thumb running along the arch over her stockings.  She lets him remove those, too, purring as he rolls them delicately down her thigh, her calves, his fingers just barely touching her.  But it is not her stockings he wants - he presses his thumb into the soft flesh of her instep, his fingertips running over her toes.  He does not look over at her, but takes her heel in his palm and kisses her instep, his tongue flicking out to dance over the flesh.</p><p>The way he licks up the underside of her middle toe makes her shiver.  She leans back against the arm of the couch and closes her eyes.  She spreads her toes for him and he sucks one of them into his mouth, his teeth barely grazing the bottom.  She moans softly for him and arches the toes of her other foot to run along the crotch of his pants.  He groans into her foot, nips the end of her toe, pushes up against her.  She wiggles her other toes against his lips.</p><p>She pulls her foot back - surveys his face beyond her pointed toes.   He has his eyes closed, his thumb rubbing his saliva into the sole of her foot.  He is smiling, just barely.  “Severus.”  She runs her big toe down his cheek.  “Tell me.”</p><p>He looks at her, catches her foot up in his grasp, all long fingers and tense pressure.  He leaves lingering kisses from heel to toe and then presses his whole face up against the sole of her foot, sighing.  “You have beautiful feet.”</p><p>“Ah, Severus, but everything about me is beautiful.”  He slips his tongue between her toes and flicks gently across the flesh.  “And so you are welcome to do that wherever you please.”</p><p>“And if I wish to continue my attentions here rather than elsewhere, what do you say?”  </p><p>She presses her foot against his groin, harder, stroking slightly.  “If you do that, I will keep doing this.”  He arches himself up against her.</p><p>“And if I would like that?”  His voice low and deep against her foot, his eyes closed again.</p><p>“Take off your clothes.”</p><p>He whines a bit in protest but obliges, turning away from from her as he disrobes and crawls onto the bed.  He lays back against the pillows, ever the pale sacrificial lamb.  Exposed like this, he won’t even look at her.  She stretches on the sofa, then gets up and shucks her own clothes.   She sits on the bed at his feet first and lifts her foot to his thigh, walking her toes up it.  “Is this what you want, Severus?”  She uses her toes to push his cock up onto his stomach.</p><p>“Yes.”  His voice is a hoarse whisper, one hand balled into a fist next to him, the other  gripping the top of her foot so her can grind himself against it.  </p><p>Leaned back on her elbows, she lays her other foot against him and watches as he bites his lip and rubs himself against her.  Portia smiles as he moans softly and then slides her feet away.  “What else do you want, Severus?” </p><p>“You.”  </p><p>She prefers him mewling - weak - no smirk in sight, none of his Slytherin swagger, no half-blood Prince bullshit.  Just a ball of want and need.  She crawls up the bed towards him and slithers her body over his, warm breath against his ear. “This?”  She slides her wetness over him, growling a little as he settles against her entrance.  </p><p>He presses up against her, but his hands stay by his sides, not touching her.  His eyes are closed.  </p><p>Back down.  Her lips down his chest, his stomach, nuzzling into his hipbone.  And then her lips against the throbbing head of him, “This?”  He is nodding, vigorously, his cock bobbing against her lips.  “Say it.”</p><p>“Please.”</p><p>“Please what?”  She runs her tongue out and over him.  </p><p>“Please put me in your mouth.”  </p><p>She opens her lips and slides down over him, moaning a little as the tip of him hits the back of her throat.  She grabs one of his hands and lays it on the back of her head, knowing he will comply at least moderately.  He is dribbling already, tight little noises leaking out of the back of his throat and she maneuvers her mouth around him.</p><p>“I’m going to...”</p><p>“Mhm.”  She purrs around him and adds her hand to the mix, pumping in time with her mouth.  As he spills down her throat, he whimpers her name softly and she smiles, glad that - at least this time - he got that right.</p><p>She pulls the blanket up with her as she moves to lay down next to him, her side barely touching his.  She watches his face - eyes closed tight, hair swept back against the pillow, chest practically thudding where his heart beats beneath it.  She slides her own hand between her legs.</p><p>And then his eyes are open and he’s on his knees before her, his hands and mouth back on her feet, ever watching the place where her fingertips have disappeared inside her own wetness.  By the time she is panting, pushing her toes against his face, his shoulder, he is hard again and she drops her thighs wide, inviting.</p><p>It is still new enough for him to growl as he pushes deep inside her, unable to keep a rhythm as she clenches her walls around him, fingers still circling her clit with intent.  He keeps his face buried in her shoulder, teeth grazing her skin as he surges forward over and over until she takes herself over the precipice, hissing “Severus” into his ear as if she blames him and he is falling, too, she knows, sweating on her chest, heaving, filling her with unexpected warmth.</p><p>When he recovers, he sits on the edge of the bed with his back to her.  She knows if she moves to look at him, his face would do nothing but make her sad - he is, really and truly, a mess of a man, more inclined to the wanting of something he’ll never have than appreciating what is being offered.</p><p>“Severus?”  She brushes her fingertips down his pale back.</p><p>“Yes?”</p><p>“Lay back down.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Be a Man</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Portia has a problem and Severus is a solution - but sometimes there isn’t an easy answer.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>One forgotten contraception charm and she stands in the middle of Knockturn Alley begging Severus Snape to be a goddammed man for once and stand up.  </p><p>She keeps her hand on her stomach, willing him to let his guard down.  To be kind this once - none of the other men will be kind either.  This is her last hope.</p><p>“Severus.”  It is her turn to be pleading, to mewl and cower in front of him, her pale fingers wrapping around his arm.  “Severus, this can be everything.”</p><p>“That is not mine.” He shakes his head and backs away from her, the first time he’s ever looked at her with that callous smirk.  “Give it to whomever you like, Portia, but it is not mine.”</p><p>He walks away and so she does just that - she gives it to the Dark Lord and her arm as well.  It is nearly a year before Snape sees her again.</p><p>When he does, in the middle of the war that rages around them, with them, she seems so small.  Smaller than she ever has been, none of the confident swagger in her face or her hips.  But does he, himself, not know how the Dark Lord breaks the women among them?  How the other Death Eaters, no doubt wary of her previous reputation, might break her, unspoken for as she is?  Alone.</p><p>“Portia.”  He sneaks up on her from behind as she sits at the counter of one of the less frequented shops. </p><p>She looks up from the parchment she is marking sums upon.  “Severus.”  There is no smirk, no coy fire lit behind her eyes.  He would like very much for her to be suddenly cruel, as she was before.  He lays his hand on the counter, very near to hers but not touching.</p><p>“Severus, if you have come here to ask questions, I have already given answers to Goyle yesterday.  There is nothing different today.”  He can see the marks around her wrist, bruised.  </p><p>“I just saw you through the window.  I thought a greeting might be polite.  I was gathering supplies.”  He thinks about how he could have brewed something, how this woman in front of him, so different from who she had been, could have been prevented.</p><p>“Well, hello then, Severus.  How are you?”  She presses the tip of her quill against the tip of her tongue.  </p><p>“How are you?”</p><p>“Severus, please do not ask me questions I cannot answer without trouble.”  </p><p>He is suddenly aware of the cat, flicking its tail across her shoulder.  “I can help, you know.”</p><p>“I very much doubt that.  You should go, I have bookkeeping to attend.”  Her eyes return to the scroll in front of her and he leaves without another word.</p><p> </p><p>It takes him two days to gather his courage and call on the Dark Lord.  “Severus, to what do I owe the pleasure?”</p><p>Snape sits in the chair across from his Lord and keeps his eyes on his knees.  “Well, sir, I’ve been thinking.  I have been very lonely and I think it is time I ask you for a partner.”</p><p>The Dark Lord leans back in his chair, hand to his chin.  “One of the Black sisters is unspoken for, I believe.”</p><p>“No, sir.  I was hoping that Portia Kerss was available.”  Snape let his eyes meet his Lord’s.</p><p>“Ah, Severus.  Portia cannot be spoken for, it would not suit either of you, I’m afraid. If you’d like a wife, I am happy to arrange that.  If you would like Portia’s services exclusively, I will grant you one week.”</p><p>Snape accepts the week, hopeful that he can figure out another solution.  She appears on his doorstep the next day, alone and unsmiling and sweeps into his home without a word.  She spends the first day tidying and scrubbing and then disappears into his bathroom for two hours.</p><p>When she comes out, she is clad only in her underwear, an unfamiliar sight.  Unlike her school day visage, her ribs are visible beneath her skin and there are marks and scars upon her that he cannot place.  Her mouth is drawn as she walks over to him, lowering herself into his lap.  “Portia.”  He puts his hand on her thigh lightly.  “We don’t have to.”</p><p>“Ah, Severus, I think you know that we do.”  She kisses his neck lightly, grazing her tongue over the sensitive flesh beneath his ear.  “I am here to clear you of any... appetites that may be unsuitable for whatever mate you’re given.  The Dark Lord wishes you to do exactly as you like to me and then forget it.”  She smiles, but it does not reach her eyes, and presses her dry lips against his.  </p><p>And so he picks her up and carries her to the bedroom and does exactly as he pleases with her - gently, whimperingly, sweet words in her ears.  He kisses every scar and drags her crying over the cliff over and over until she’s smirking again, swaying her hips in that delightful little way whenever they leave the bedroom.  </p><p>By the fifth day she is mounting him again, laughter bubbling from her throat as she presses her toes against his lips.  He spills himself into her belly again and again, thinking this plan is infallible.</p><p>On the seventh day it is the Dark Lord who arrives on his doorstep to escort her away.  She is still smirking as she goes but the Dark Lord leans down and whispers into Severus’s ear “No more.”</p><p>He sees her two months later, from a distance, taught skin across her middle again and she catches his eye.  She is not smirking and she is led away by other men before he can speak to her.</p><p>It occurs to him then that no matter what choice he may have made now, the Dark Lord will not let him have her or the stirring he has placed inside her.  All he has done is given her the potential for more punishment.</p><p>She takes the potion vial from him without question when he sulks into her shop and he watches, eyes hard as she drinks it willingly.   For a second time, he knows he has taken something unfairly from her - denied her twice.  Her words ring in his ears.</p><p>“Goddammit, Severus, be a man.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. After the War...</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>After the war, Severus has an offer: but too little, too late.</p>
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    <p>When the war is over, he offers to marry her.  But she laughs that sharp, bubbling laugh of hers and withdraws her body from him.</p><p>“Severus - I do not need you to marry me now.  I am going back to work and all will be fine.”  Already she has cast a charm over her mark, already she is counting on her own abilities, smirking again.</p><p>So he takes the job at Hogwarts and, sometimes, he receives an owl.  He very nearly always answers.  The first year he is intentional, answering every owl, spilling himself inside her and waiting with bravado to be able to cease her charming herself empty.  But she doesn’t, and yet there is not another moment of tautness, she does not grow or seek him out, tearstained.  It takes that year to realize the Dark Lord has taken this from him, as well, and from her - he wonders often what other punishments he may have caused her that he does not know.</p><p>He answers the owls less and less.  When he does, finally, answer an owl it seems to him that she has mistaken him.  She presses her hands to his face and kisses him.  “It is okay to visit, Severus, it can’t happen again.  It won’t happen again.”  She seems surprised when he pulls away at this and her smile fades.  “I promise this time.”</p><p>“That’s not... I thought it might.”  He does his best to smirk anyway and kisses her until she forgets he said anything in the first place.  </p><p>It’s not until she leans into his ear, when she thinks he is sleeping that she whispers “I wish I could have given you everything.”  </p><p>The owls stop coming.</p><p>Until the marks start aching again.</p>
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